WASPS DON’T FLUSH!

Discover a merry band of wasps busily buzzing back and forth from brickwork outside the spare room window. I’m no David Attenborough but immediately suss a nest. Helpful wasp control chap recommended by neighbour turns up and sucks air through his teeth. (Is there a course you go on to learn how to do that?) ‘Yup,’ he says, ‘Yup, lot of ’em in there.’ and looks at me suspiciously, like I’ve been recruiting from other nests. Lubricated with a couple of cuppas he does his stuff, the morals of which I’d rather not go into too deeply. ‘Might find the odd straggler.’ he warns as he departs. He was kidding not. Keep encountering small accusatory yellow bodies and hastily consigning them to the loo, that’s how I know wasps don’t flush. Unlike some of us.

At women’s networking group meeting. Of the twenty or so present at least a dozen of us are shedding jackets, fanning faces with the agenda and muttering ‘Hot in here? Or is it me? Flipping hormones – whose idea were they anyway? Mind you, was a bit hot and bothered when I arrived. Of course, in an ideal world you should roll up to a business meeting after a leisurely drive, slide into a conveniently located parking space just outside and sally forth cool, unruffled and in full business mode.

Unfortunately, prior to this particular meeting get stuck in deliberately-placed-on-my-route roadworks. Make it, with minutes to spare, only to find not half an inch of parking space within running distance. Drive around for what seems like ages getting less cool and more bothered by the minute and muttering the sort of words you’d slap the children for using. Finally park in Rhett Butler spirit, if they tow it, frankly my dear …. ! Hurtle into hotel at which point should of course be in a position to clearly, concisely and confidently convey all relevant business information to anyone who chooses to shake my decidedly clammy hand. Can hear myself making rather less sense than I’d like.

Get home and make a list of things I need to do better, like setting off earlier and wearing thinner clothes. Place this alongside list of things to do today and on top of list of things should have done yesterday. Yes, indeed, am one of those people who, along with the vicissitudes of everyday life, find themselves additionally burdened with an embarrassing problem no-one really likes to talk about.

Lists of course aren’t a bad thing, indeed there’s nothing so handy to guide you round the supermarket as a well-tuned one, providing of course you haven’t left it in the car, posted it by error with the day’s mailing or forgotten to tear it off the kitchen pad. And there’s certainly no harm and a good deal of comfort in a trusty Things To Do nestled next to your computer.

However, we all know even a good thing can go too far and if you start getting twitchy when pen and paper aren’t to hand and a far-away look in the eye as you try and mentally bullet-point items, you can be pretty certain you’re probably well on the way to la la land and need to haul yourself back from the brink before it’s far too late.

Talking of warning signs, opening the chest freezer this evening, am more than a little put out to discover carrier bag containing three tins of pineapple, two tins of a very nice pea soup and a large bottle of Lenor (Spring Breeze). Cannot for one moment imagine how these could have landed in here, certainly have no recall of doing anything quite so daft. One thing’s for sure though, this small mental aberration must have occurred a little while ago because the tins of pineapple are ready to rupture, the soup is in a solidly sorry state and the Lenore isn’t half as breezy as it was. Worrying or what? ~ end ~